Waning Dawn
by Katagelophobia
Summary: They didn't think Sunstrike was all that extraordinary. No one did. Except for the Dark Forest.
1. Prologue

The last time Ivypool had seen her, the stark splash of white cresting her forehead was barely visible through the drenching scarlet that clumped her fur and dribbled down her jaws. She cast a gentle, forlorn gaze to the dying cat in front of her, but offered no help or comfort. The she-cat must have had trouble breathing through her scratched nose, but her chest rose and fell as evenly as any other cats'.

The dying tom was from the Dark forest, and as his pelt's colours began to fade and his outstretched paws grew less and less frantic in their clawing for life, the she-cat looked almost intrigued. She hadn't known dead cats could die once more.

Antpelt gave her a reassuring look, proud of his former clanmate's skill. Breezepelt had whispered praise before padding to the waking world, and Hawkfrost seemed slightly impressed.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Sunstrike."

He was returned with a questioning look. "I _always_ had it in me." Her words were smooth, relaxed, and she had shifted her weight to her other side before she mewed, "The sun is going to rise soon. I need to be ready for morning patrol."

She turned, but had glanced back at the group of cats behind her. "Bye, then?"

She had blinked slowly, calmly, and with a rustle of the blood-dappled ferns beneath her tortoiseshell paws, the Windclan warrior was engulfed by shadow.

Ivypool didn't think much of it.


	2. Chapter 1

Sunstrike was the average she-cat, the friendly, loyal one, the one every other cat thought would simply get a mate, raise a litter, die defending her clan and join the ranks of her starry ancestors. She wasn't considered leader or deputy material, nor did she have the fate of a medicine cat. Too feisty to be a full-time queen but not self-preserving enough to make it to the elder's den. When her clanmates heard her name, the first thing to come to mind was that rather pretty cat who was polite and kind.

Determined, as Antpelt had said.

Nice, as Ivypool had said.

Respectable, as Breezepelt had said.

Full of potential, as Thistleclaw had said.

When a young warrior, just having received her full name, bounded into the darkest, dampest, thickest-aired forest she had ever come across, she was welcomed with malicious yet expectant glares and sadistically bared teeth. She recognized a few of her clanmates, some cats from rival clans and, most striking to her of all, huge, towering _beasts_ of darkness, with frighteningly white fangs and ominous auras. They curled long claws into the ground and murmured greetings, muscles rippling under their fur and scars. Their haunches were tensed, as if ready to pounce.

She got caught up in the dank, hopeless jungle of fear and violence and power, so much raw, tangible strength that for the nights she remained in the looming darkness, she felt much more significant than when the sun bathed the moors. Her heart pumped with Windclan blood, but her claws yearned for just another training session, just another rush of teeth raking through pelt and warm, salty blood gushing from her own expert blows.

'I'm a good warrior,' she told herself as she padded side-by-side with her lithe clanmates, over the tree bridge to the Island. The full moon cast a silvery glow on all cats in the clearing as she and a Riverclan apprentice shared a knowing look. 'I'm a good, useful warrior.'


	3. Chapter 2

There was one last rend, one last blow of claws against pelt before Mapleshade drawled out a lazy, "That's good enough." The old, fleabitten warrior lumbered over to Redwillow and Sunstrike, heaving a raspy sigh as she assessed the damage.

"Redwillow, I know your claws are much longer than that. You barely broke skin here." she critiqued the long, stinging scratch across Sunstrike's flank. "You aren't a kit, this isn't a play fight."

The tom scoffed and flicked his nicked ear. "Well _sorry_ I gave a she-cat some slack!"

"...You know better than to snark with me, Shadowclan rat-"

"It's not like you fish-faces are much better, trying to grow scales or something!"

"Are you trying to pester me?"

"No, you're just a grumpy old elder who flops like a fish out of water!"

"You're a fox-hearted scruff who doesn't deserve a warrior name!"

"Says the mange-ridden scum! I'll rip your nose off-"

"I'll gut you and feed you to the minnows!"

The two had begun shrieking, claws unsheathed and teeth bared. Fury was burning in Mapleshade's eyes, and Sunstrike knew that if they fought, it wouldn't end well for Redwillow. She stepped forward.

"I'm perfectly capable of fighting for myself, thank you."

Redwillow's head snapped to her, irritated. Worse was Mapleshade who yowled, "Then prove it!" before barreling towards her, lips drawn back in a snarl.

Sunstrike leapt nimbly to the side as Mapleshade stumbled over her Riverclan paws. Steadying herself, the smaller cat prepared to pounce just as Mapleshade charged again.

In a flurry of swept up dirt and leaves, the tortoiseshell raked her claws across Mapleshade's muzzle, drawing blood before hopping away. In reply, the other bounded forward and pinned her down, battering her with hind paws before Sunstrike slipped out of the grip.

She dodged a few more of Mapleshade's swipes, agility being dragged down by fatigue, before the mottled cat landed a heavy blow across her belly, sending her flying. She crashed unceremoniously into a tree, rough bark ripping off chunks of fur. Sunstrike tried to scramble back up, but failed as Mapleshade pinned her down once more.

"Don't test my patience today, scum." she growled, "I'm not in the mood." She cast a threatening glare at Redwillow, who was frigid with shock.

Sunstrike had barely heard the she-cat's warning; she couldn't focus with the blood rushing in her ears, heartbeats loud and thumping, vision fading black to white to black again. She swallowed gasping, shaky breaths as, out of the corner of her eye, she watched crimson pool near her stomach. It took a while before she was aware of the pain, and the way the blood flowed faster than the streams that ran through her territory. She gave a quiet, disbelieving gasp.

Mapleshade eventually rose, half-heartedly flicking her paw to rid it of the sticky blood. Redwillow croaked out a, "S-Sunstrike, I think you should leave..."

After a few moments the roaring sound crushing around her faded away, and she pushed herself upwards, legs feeling weak. Her head was still spinning and it felt like she was losing weight with each gush of blood, but she managed to stumble away into the waking world.


End file.
